![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
oh, Monday.
First things first:
Happy Birthday,
I can't wait until the next time we're sitting on some porch steps together. :)
And now for something completely different (although if this should amuse you, Lynn, feel free to claim it).
School and work and the emotional rollercoaster of playoff hockey (there is nothing more happy-making than roaming the internets for coverage the day after a playoff win, and nothing more depressing than doing the same the day after a playoff loss, and I seem equally compelled to do it in either case) have been conspiring to kick my ass up and down the block this past week, and look fair to keep it up for the next seventeen days, not that I'm counting or anything.
To keep myself on a vaguely even keel, and to entertain![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
iuliamentis, who is headed into finals and thus getting her ass kicked up and down an entirely different block six hundred miles from me, I have been writing a bit of West Wing crackfic. On the off chance that anyone else needs this particular antidote to their Monday...
Three Feet Tall and Naked (West Wing, gen, PG)
by Dira Sudis, under the influence of the month of April.
Donna looked from the email to Josh's closed office door and back again, and then sighed, rolled her eyes, and walked over. As instructed, she opened the door without knocking, and stopped short near the door when she'd closed it. The blinds were closed, and the sun was barely up anyway. The only light came from the screen of Josh's laptop, and that was half-lowered, so she couldn't see anything. "Josh?"
The screen seemed to rise on its own, brightening the light. Donna took a step closer to Josh's desk, and spotted a small hand--a child's hand--on the laptop, and then a tiny head with a cloud of curly red-brown hair came into view, and two wide brown eyes were peering up at her over the keyboard.
Donna blinked several times and then smiled. "Hi there," she said brightly, thinking, You are so dead, Josh. "What's your name?"
"My name is Josh," the tiny kid said, in that self-important way smart little kids had sometimes.
"Really," Donna said, and, God, he looked like Josh--oh, God, he could be Josh's-- "That's funny, because my boss is--"
"Donna," the kid said, staring at her with Josh's big brown eyes in the glow of Josh's laptop, from behind Josh's desk.
Donna closed her mouth, opened it, and closed it again. "This is a mean joke someone is playing," she said slowly, "and if you're good and tell me where Mr. Lyman is--"
"Donna," the kid repeated, high voice going higher with frustration. This could not be happening, but the kid hooked his chin--he had a cleft chin, exactly like Josh--on the edge of the laptop and loudly whispered, "Sagittarius."
Donna stumbled backward to sit down hard in the chair beside the door, pressing her hand to her mouth. "Josh?"
"I wouldn't stop for red lights," he said quietly, looking at her with a familiar intent expression that was absolutely bizarre on a child's round-cheeked face.
"You wouldn't stop for a beer," she corrected, lowering her hand. Josh raised two tiny hands to his forehead, scrubbing his fingers through his hair.
"Actually a beer sounds pretty good right now," he muttered, in a voice that should barely know its ABC's. Donna knew it was hysteria, but she started to laugh and couldn't stop.
***
"Donna--" Josh said, and then stopped short. He couldn't even see her over the desk, she was sitting so far away. He looked down at himself, covered in his undershirt down past his knees and nothing else, since none of his other clothes would stay on except his shirt, and that covered up his hands. He heaved a sigh and then turned and climbed awkwardly up onto his desk chair, drawing his knees up to his chest and stretching the shirt easily to cover him down to his toes. Donna was watching him with wide eyes, but at least she'd mostly stopped laughing. "No," he said, ignoring the high, weird sound of his own voice. "I haven't been consorting with witches. I haven't drunk any potions, I haven't pissed off any Gypsies--"
"Roma," she corrected, "or Travellers in some areas, but not Gypsies--"
"I haven't pissed off anyone with magical powers."
"How would you know they had magical powers?" Donna asked, and Josh covered his face with his hands, physically restraining the urge to scream.
"Donna!" When she didn't say anything else, he looked up. "The point is," he said, "I'm three feet tall and I don't have any pants."
Donna stood up, and Josh had to look up and up to watch her face. "We're going to need reinforcements," she announced, and Josh felt his eyes go wide. Before he could argue she said, "Stay here, I'll be right back!" and backed out of the door.
As if he could go anywhere like this; Josh sat still a minute and then slid out of his chair, crawling into the tangle of his suit and shirt under the desk. His feet were cold, and he tucked them together into the sleeve of his coat.
At least down here no one could see him from the door. He put both hands over his mouth to muffle the sound of his voice even from himself, and whispered, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..."
***
Sam was startled by the knock--on his doorframe, as he'd left the door open, not expecting to be bothered much at nine on a Saturday--and looked up wide-eyed, then smiled. "Donna," he said.
Donna's return smile was almost manic. "Sam! Hi!"
"Hi," he replied obediently, sitting very still, wondering how he could avoid whatever she was going to try to rope him into.
"Josh needs to see you," she said, still smiling, terrifyingly cheerful. "Could you come over to his office for a minute?"
Sam was on his feet. If Josh was sending Donna--if Donna was trying this desperately to cover-- "Sure," he said. "Donna, is--"
"Just come over to his office," she said, and then glanced around. "Not right this second, wait a couple of minutes. His door is closed, but go straight in."
She turned and sped off without waiting for a reply, and Sam stared out into the empty bullpen. "Okay," he murmured, and glanced at his watch.
***
The door opened and closed, and Josh went silent and perfectly still. Donna said, "Josh?" and a light turned on.
"Under here," he said, and he could hear the sullen note in his voice.
Donna's footsteps started to come toward the desk, and he said, "Who'd you tell?"
She stopped. "I didn't tell anyone," she said. "Telling anyone would have taken a lot longer, what with being dragged off to a mental hospital." Josh could feel the spot where he was supposed to mutter something about that being a constant hazard of life as Donnatella Moss, but he let it go, and Donna picked up the thread after a second's hesitation. "I asked Sam to come over. He'll be here in a minute."
"Great," Josh muttered, but he would have emailed Sam next if Donna hadn't come in. Sam would be okay. Sam wouldn't laugh. Not as much as Donna had, anyway.
Donna was silent for several seconds, and Josh fidgeted quietly under the desk, twirling the end of his tie around. He wanted to get up and pace, but the shirt got kind of... drafty, when he moved around.
"Do you need anything?" Donna asked, breaking the silence.
Josh snorted, which sounded ridiculous. He rubbed his nose and faked a cough to cover it, and then said, "Other than pants and about thirty-five years of my life?" Donna didn't say anything immediately, and Josh added, "Actually, if you have any food in your desk..."
Donna's voice was much softer as she said, "I'll be right back. Hang on."
"Yeah," Josh said as the door closed, looking around his dim little cave under the desk. "I'll just... hang on."
***
When Sam came over, Donna was sitting at her desk, rummaging rapidly through her desk drawers. She looked up as he approached and waved him toward Josh's door, and he couldn't miss the nervous way she glanced around as she did it. He'd passed three other assistants on the way here, but it was Saturday: everyone who was here had something to do, and no one had paid him the least attention. Sam opened the door to Josh's office and stepped inside.
One light was on, but not the others, and the blinds were drawn, so the room was gloomy and dim. Josh was nowhere to be seen. "Um," Sam said.
He looked around Josh's office, wondering if Donna was going to follow him in, if something stranger than usual was going on, and then a small, high-pitched voice said, "Over here."
Sam followed the sound around Josh's desk, and when he was standing beside it, a child poked his head out from underneath. "Hey," the kid said. He looked glum and tired and not at all surprised to see Sam. The bit of his shoulder that Sam could see was bare.
"Hey," Sam said awkwardly, staring down at the child and wondering where Josh was and why on earth Donna had decided to drag him into this. The kid looked vaguely familiar, though, and Sam squinted at him, wracking his brain, and then remembered his manners and said, "I'm Sam," just as the door opened. He glanced up and saw Donna step inside with a granola bar in her hand, and she gave him an apologetic smile.
"I know," the kid said, sounding impossibly weary. "Sam, it's me. It's Josh."
So this was definitely something stranger than usual.
***
Happy Birthday, lynnmonster!!
I can't wait until the next time we're sitting on some porch steps together. :)
And now for something completely different (although if this should amuse you, Lynn, feel free to claim it).
School and work and the emotional rollercoaster of playoff hockey (there is nothing more happy-making than roaming the internets for coverage the day after a playoff win, and nothing more depressing than doing the same the day after a playoff loss, and I seem equally compelled to do it in either case) have been conspiring to kick my ass up and down the block this past week, and look fair to keep it up for the next seventeen days, not that I'm counting or anything.
To keep myself on a vaguely even keel, and to entertain
iuliamentis, who is headed into finals and thus getting her ass kicked up and down an entirely different block six hundred miles from me, I have been writing a bit of West Wing crackfic. On the off chance that anyone else needs this particular antidote to their Monday... Three Feet Tall and Naked (West Wing, gen, PG)
by Dira Sudis, under the influence of the month of April.
Donna looked from the email to Josh's closed office door and back again, and then sighed, rolled her eyes, and walked over. As instructed, she opened the door without knocking, and stopped short near the door when she'd closed it. The blinds were closed, and the sun was barely up anyway. The only light came from the screen of Josh's laptop, and that was half-lowered, so she couldn't see anything. "Josh?"
The screen seemed to rise on its own, brightening the light. Donna took a step closer to Josh's desk, and spotted a small hand--a child's hand--on the laptop, and then a tiny head with a cloud of curly red-brown hair came into view, and two wide brown eyes were peering up at her over the keyboard.
Donna blinked several times and then smiled. "Hi there," she said brightly, thinking, You are so dead, Josh. "What's your name?"
"My name is Josh," the tiny kid said, in that self-important way smart little kids had sometimes.
"Really," Donna said, and, God, he looked like Josh--oh, God, he could be Josh's-- "That's funny, because my boss is--"
"Donna," the kid said, staring at her with Josh's big brown eyes in the glow of Josh's laptop, from behind Josh's desk.
Donna closed her mouth, opened it, and closed it again. "This is a mean joke someone is playing," she said slowly, "and if you're good and tell me where Mr. Lyman is--"
"Donna," the kid repeated, high voice going higher with frustration. This could not be happening, but the kid hooked his chin--he had a cleft chin, exactly like Josh--on the edge of the laptop and loudly whispered, "Sagittarius."
Donna stumbled backward to sit down hard in the chair beside the door, pressing her hand to her mouth. "Josh?"
"I wouldn't stop for red lights," he said quietly, looking at her with a familiar intent expression that was absolutely bizarre on a child's round-cheeked face.
"You wouldn't stop for a beer," she corrected, lowering her hand. Josh raised two tiny hands to his forehead, scrubbing his fingers through his hair.
"Actually a beer sounds pretty good right now," he muttered, in a voice that should barely know its ABC's. Donna knew it was hysteria, but she started to laugh and couldn't stop.
***
"Donna--" Josh said, and then stopped short. He couldn't even see her over the desk, she was sitting so far away. He looked down at himself, covered in his undershirt down past his knees and nothing else, since none of his other clothes would stay on except his shirt, and that covered up his hands. He heaved a sigh and then turned and climbed awkwardly up onto his desk chair, drawing his knees up to his chest and stretching the shirt easily to cover him down to his toes. Donna was watching him with wide eyes, but at least she'd mostly stopped laughing. "No," he said, ignoring the high, weird sound of his own voice. "I haven't been consorting with witches. I haven't drunk any potions, I haven't pissed off any Gypsies--"
"Roma," she corrected, "or Travellers in some areas, but not Gypsies--"
"I haven't pissed off anyone with magical powers."
"How would you know they had magical powers?" Donna asked, and Josh covered his face with his hands, physically restraining the urge to scream.
"Donna!" When she didn't say anything else, he looked up. "The point is," he said, "I'm three feet tall and I don't have any pants."
Donna stood up, and Josh had to look up and up to watch her face. "We're going to need reinforcements," she announced, and Josh felt his eyes go wide. Before he could argue she said, "Stay here, I'll be right back!" and backed out of the door.
As if he could go anywhere like this; Josh sat still a minute and then slid out of his chair, crawling into the tangle of his suit and shirt under the desk. His feet were cold, and he tucked them together into the sleeve of his coat.
At least down here no one could see him from the door. He put both hands over his mouth to muffle the sound of his voice even from himself, and whispered, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..."
***
Sam was startled by the knock--on his doorframe, as he'd left the door open, not expecting to be bothered much at nine on a Saturday--and looked up wide-eyed, then smiled. "Donna," he said.
Donna's return smile was almost manic. "Sam! Hi!"
"Hi," he replied obediently, sitting very still, wondering how he could avoid whatever she was going to try to rope him into.
"Josh needs to see you," she said, still smiling, terrifyingly cheerful. "Could you come over to his office for a minute?"
Sam was on his feet. If Josh was sending Donna--if Donna was trying this desperately to cover-- "Sure," he said. "Donna, is--"
"Just come over to his office," she said, and then glanced around. "Not right this second, wait a couple of minutes. His door is closed, but go straight in."
She turned and sped off without waiting for a reply, and Sam stared out into the empty bullpen. "Okay," he murmured, and glanced at his watch.
***
The door opened and closed, and Josh went silent and perfectly still. Donna said, "Josh?" and a light turned on.
"Under here," he said, and he could hear the sullen note in his voice.
Donna's footsteps started to come toward the desk, and he said, "Who'd you tell?"
She stopped. "I didn't tell anyone," she said. "Telling anyone would have taken a lot longer, what with being dragged off to a mental hospital." Josh could feel the spot where he was supposed to mutter something about that being a constant hazard of life as Donnatella Moss, but he let it go, and Donna picked up the thread after a second's hesitation. "I asked Sam to come over. He'll be here in a minute."
"Great," Josh muttered, but he would have emailed Sam next if Donna hadn't come in. Sam would be okay. Sam wouldn't laugh. Not as much as Donna had, anyway.
Donna was silent for several seconds, and Josh fidgeted quietly under the desk, twirling the end of his tie around. He wanted to get up and pace, but the shirt got kind of... drafty, when he moved around.
"Do you need anything?" Donna asked, breaking the silence.
Josh snorted, which sounded ridiculous. He rubbed his nose and faked a cough to cover it, and then said, "Other than pants and about thirty-five years of my life?" Donna didn't say anything immediately, and Josh added, "Actually, if you have any food in your desk..."
Donna's voice was much softer as she said, "I'll be right back. Hang on."
"Yeah," Josh said as the door closed, looking around his dim little cave under the desk. "I'll just... hang on."
***
When Sam came over, Donna was sitting at her desk, rummaging rapidly through her desk drawers. She looked up as he approached and waved him toward Josh's door, and he couldn't miss the nervous way she glanced around as she did it. He'd passed three other assistants on the way here, but it was Saturday: everyone who was here had something to do, and no one had paid him the least attention. Sam opened the door to Josh's office and stepped inside.
One light was on, but not the others, and the blinds were drawn, so the room was gloomy and dim. Josh was nowhere to be seen. "Um," Sam said.
He looked around Josh's office, wondering if Donna was going to follow him in, if something stranger than usual was going on, and then a small, high-pitched voice said, "Over here."
Sam followed the sound around Josh's desk, and when he was standing beside it, a child poked his head out from underneath. "Hey," the kid said. He looked glum and tired and not at all surprised to see Sam. The bit of his shoulder that Sam could see was bare.
"Hey," Sam said awkwardly, staring down at the child and wondering where Josh was and why on earth Donna had decided to drag him into this. The kid looked vaguely familiar, though, and Sam squinted at him, wracking his brain, and then remembered his manners and said, "I'm Sam," just as the door opened. He glanced up and saw Donna step inside with a granola bar in her hand, and she gave him an apologetic smile.
"I know," the kid said, sounding impossibly weary. "Sam, it's me. It's Josh."
So this was definitely something stranger than usual.
***